


It's Not a Plan but It's a Perfect Plan

by ladymal



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymal/pseuds/ladymal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor does not suffer dissent as Cassandra has now learned. But she is not without friends or hope for a better future. For eveningshadowrising as part of my holiday giveaway on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not a Plan but It's a Perfect Plan

Cassandra paced her cell in tight circles. The repetitive action irritated her—there was much of her situation that _irritated her_ —but the misty night air that filled the ruined dungeons beneath Skyhold was far too cold for her to remain still. It had been such every day she'd been here. Eventually, exhaustion would drive her to huddle on her cot with the moth-eaten blanket she'd been provided wrapped tight around her and a prayer to survive the night on her lips. That was not for some hours yet, however. So, she paced with a sarcastic sense of gratitude that she'd at least been placed in a cell that was not missing half its floor.

The torches near the door flickered, hissing and spitting like drenched cats as a bit of spray from the waterfall was kicked their way. They were burning low which meant that a guard would soon be by to change them. There would be supper for her too, an encouraging thought. She had gone without for the last three nights and that appeared to be the limit of the Inquisitor's willingness to starve her. Why, she didn't know. It would serve him better to kill her and be done with it—such ruthlessness was well within his capabilities—but he seemed content to wait. For her to beg forgiveness or her will to break, perhaps.

If that was the case, his Worship would be waiting a very long time.

The door to the inner prison opened with a groan and Cassandra stopped. Her stomach clenched in anticipation of the coming meal and she scowled. _Do not get your hopes up_ , she told it.

She expected the guard to deal with the dwindling torches first but they didn't even pause. Eyes narrowing, she listened to the heaviness of their gait and the rustling of leather and cloth; there was no clink of chainmail as there should have been. She tensed. It was clear that her visitor wasn't one of her usual guards but she did not expect to see the man who turned up at her cell door.

"Maker, it's good to see you," Cullen said. "I was never entirely sure that the Inquisitor hadn't just killed you and was doing an excellent job of covering it up."

_Maker_ , she echoed as she stared at him. He looked...alarming; as sallow and gaunt as a corpse. Shadows bruised tired eyes and his cheeks were razor-sharp, the skin stretched tight over the bones. He had exchanged his plate armor for leather and his clothes hung loosely on him. It emphasized the sickly, emaciated state of him and made it starkly clear that while she'd been imprisoned, the lyrium had slowly been killing him.

_Another thing to thank 'His Holiness' for_ , she thought with growing anger.

Cullen gave her a smile that was too weak to be the reassurance he had no doubt intended. "I'm not nearly as bad off as I look."

He began digging into a pocket and she noted the faint trembling of his hands.

"I dearly hope that that is the truth. For your sake," she said, shaking her head. "And I am glad to see you as well though I do wonder what you are doing here. The Inquisitor will not be happy to know you have visited me."

Snorting, he brandished an iron key. "He'll be more than that."

He unlocked her cell, swinging it open and then stepping aside with a gesture.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Another pale smile.

"Surely, you didn't think that we would leave you down here forever?"

"We?"

"Varric, Leliana, and myself, of course."

" _Varric_? I would think he has been gloating from here to Kirkwall to know that the tables have been turned."

"He has, often and loudly." Here, his lips twisted. "One might say that the Inquisitor and he have bonded over it. They've taken to sharing drinks nightly and it's where they are now, in fact. I hear that the Inquisitor is falling down drunk as we speak."

"The dwarf always was too sly for everyone's own good," she said dryly as she stepped out her cell for the first time in a month. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. "Is there a plan we are to keep to? Or are we to just run for our lives and pray to the Maker?"

A spark of humor gave his eyes some much needed life. "There _is_ a plan but prayers to the Maker would probably not go amiss. We might as well, seeing as we have to wait."

"Wait for what?"

"The guard will be called away on some urgent business shortly," he explained. "Once he is gone, one of Leliana's people will come and take you out of Skyhold from here."

Humming, she crossed her arms in an unimpressed way. The Commander believed that she was going to leave without him, did he?

"Are you still taking lyrium?" she asked.

He looked startled at the sudden question and then wary. "Of course. It is a bit too late to stop at this point."

"I disagree. You are more capable than you give yourself credit for. Though I realize now that I should have argued more strongly against the Inquisitor on the matter to begin with."

"It was the right decision." He shifted his feet restlessly. "I would have compromised the entire Inquisition otherwise."

She made a noise of disgust. "Funny how one never forgets the smell of horseshit. I did not miss it."

Frowning, he crossed his arms. "Now is not the time for this discussion."

"On that we agree."

She turned and marched over to the door to the inner prison.

"What are you doing?" Cullen asked, alarmed, but she ignored him to wrench the door open.

The guard jumped up from his chair with a somewhat hilarious expression of panic at the sight of her. Cassandra closed in to yank his hand away from his sword before he could run her through.

"Be sure to inform the Inquisitor that Commander Cullen freed me with the express purpose of allowing me to escape," she told him and then clocked him in the jaw without further ado.

The man dropped to the floor and as he groaned, she tore the irons from his belt and clapped them around his wrists. He seemed to realize what she'd done around the time she pulled him back onto his feet. His mouth opened, the beginnings of a shout forming, and she clamped her hand over it with a glare that made him wither.

"Well, that's one way of doing things, I suppose," Cullen said from behind her. He sighed. "Best put him in your old cell so that he doesn't bring the whole of the Inquisition down on us."

They did so after making a quick gag out of his own pair of socks. Somewhat grudgingly, she tucked the old blanket around him before leaving him.

"You are coming with me," she told Cullen as he closed the door between the two halves of the dungeon.

"I had gathered." Looking displeased, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Not that I have much choice in the matter, now."

"Quite right."

She paused; Cullen raised his eyebrow at her. Sighing in exasperation, she reached over and hugged him. He was still with surprise for a beat before returning it, his arms firm around her. To her disgust, a few tears prickled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

"This never happened," she told him once they separated.

"Strange, I've already forgotten."

He was smiling—properly this time—and he politely didn't watch her swipe her face dry. When Leliana's agent arrived, she did not seem at all surprised to learn that there was to be an extra fugitive which made Cassandra wonder what the Spymaster was up to but grateful nonetheless. Cullen seemed to catch on to it, as well, and looked irritated but she was not the least bit sorry to have corralled him into this.

_I will save you, my friend_ , she thought as they were hurried out of the prison. _Whether you believe it possible or not._


End file.
